Oh come to Fort William
The town of the fight
Where the timber men are drinking
The black brew through the night
And the factories are frozen
But the tourist bus rolls
Like an unending horizon
Of the carnival of souls
Come to Fort William
A very hard place
That is trapped between a Mountain
And the actions of Grace
Where woman may walk softly
Where a man is in disgrace
Because that is the nature of the whole
Human race
Give over your line drawings
Nothing is sublime
None more so the etchings from an unquiet
mind
You poor mawkings
You Maoists of state
Who hunger for your purse strings
To bring up to date
The nurse in the court yard
The prisoner’s dock
The sentence that has thought hard
On the passing of the clock
The rain buffets trees
The rain will not cease
It comes round the lees
And leaves to the east
The tide is a miracle line
That shadow softly treads
The gull which glides has followed its
threads
And it falls on the window pane
In tiny necklace beads
Which have clothed the clouds of heaven
Then by a tempest hurled
There is a queen there some place
Who has lost her jewels
Then they adorn the flowers
Hang around necks of cows or mules
The rose is spotted
In its pink promiscuous haze
It overshadows the cow parsley
And we all call softly
Come back to life
And the master of death
Stands and sharpens his knife
